Only in My Fantasy
by Mad King's Castle
Summary: Hermione is having fantasies about things that might have crossed the mind of any fan-girl at some point in time. Draco happens to see something he wishes he hadn't. Sometimes you need a push in the right direction, or the wrong. A lot of things are bound to surface when you start digging – and no-one is going to be happy about that. … Rating because of the theme.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** My apologies for the raging teenage hormones._

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling. Please don't sue._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 1**

Hermione Granger sneaked into an empty classroom and made sure the door was properly closed. She touched the couple of items left on the teacher's desk; three empty flasks, a book on advanced potion making and a quill which she picked up. The thought that the professor had been holding it just a few hours earlier was exiting.

This had become a bit of a habit of hers lately. Well, what was she supposed to do really? She had turned 16 already and there was still no boyfriend around. And she had all these fantasies – lots of them. People would be surprised if they knew how imaginative she could be.

Carefully she moved the flasks aside before climbing on the desk. She wouldn't want to break anything. She undid her robes and the top buttons of her blouse. Then she picked up the quill again, stroking her neck with it. The feathery touch tickled softly. She liked to think it felt like his hair would feel like on her skin when he leaned over to kiss her neck.

Professor Snape was one of her favourite fantasies. Definitely the most frequently used one anyway. Even with a mean personality like his, he had something very alluring over him. She couldn't quite put her finger on whether it was his dark and brooding looks, his deep yet icy voice or the way he hold himself that gave him a certain appeal. Of course she had fantasised about every other cute bloke in Hogwarts by now, but those boys were usually merely good for one or two fantasies before she got tired of the thought of them.

Sighing Hermione closed her eyes. She let the feather play on her chin and then drew it over her lips. It felt like a soft kiss. She longed for a real kiss, longed so much she ached. However, it was best to leave it as a fantasy. If the real Snape had walked through the door right now she would die of embarrassment, and if she somehow miraculously survived she would probably get expelled. When it happened in a fantasy it was safe.

There had been a couple of mistakes though, she had to admit. Once she had tried thinking of Harry that way, but it had felt all wrong. It was like she was doing it with her brother. And then the red-headed jerk. Oh, it had felt fantastic in her daydream. Too good actually, because afterwards she had become vulnerable and gotten angry at Ron – well angrier than usual – since he still wasn't even treating her like she was a girl. That was the thing: fantasies shouldn't get too near real things.

Why was her mind wandering today? She tried to concentrate on a picture of the tall, dark teacher putting his palm on her knee and undressing her first with his piercing eyes and then with his firm hands.

On today's Potions lesson Snape had looked particularly menacing. He had also given them extra homework. She secretly enjoyed the assignments even though she wouldn't dare to admit it aloud to her complaining friends. Still she couldn't help but wondering if there was some reason for the professor's foul mood. Snape had even yelled at Malfoy and his cronies today. Hermione couldn't help but to snigger at the thought of that stupid look on the ferrets face when Snape had told him to shut it.

Oh darn, now the reality was interfering with her fantasy again. Maybe she should give it a rest and head back for the dormitories. As she still felt restless and unsatisfied she went back to the fantasy world where the extremely sexy, and probably lonely, teacher took off his shirt to reveal a well-toned body. The man pulled her near and kissed her passionately. Then the image changed. The man's face got younger and his hair turned a lot paler.

No, God no! Why on earth had she ever thought of that blond brat at all? Now his features weren't leaving her fantasy. How could a person she truly loathed even be there in the first place? Draco Malfoy was certainly the last person she would ever do it with – well, after Crabbe and Goyle. Or wait, maybe she would even prefer the goons over Malfoy? She definitively didn't want him in her fantasy anyway!

It was like her mind really liked playing tricks on her since the fantasy-Malfoy's hands were now all over her body and it didn't feel all that unpleasant. Well, maybe there was no harm in having one tiny daydream starring that lowlife then. He wasn't that bad-looking after all. Puberty had treated him well, she had to admit. She didn't know when exactly he had gotten taller and his shoulders broader, but somehow it had magically happened. She was also pretty sure that without a sneer or an expression of disgust his face would have looked almost pleasant.

Should it matter if they hated each-other in reality? Since this was only a fantasy she felt it was safe to dig her fingers into his silver blond hair and imagine his soft skin on hers. Fantasies weren't supposed to be realistic. That was the good thing about them. She put her hand on her inner thigh and allowed it to slowly slide upwards.

* * *

Draco Malfoy slammed the painting behind him when he marched into the corridor. He wished for Filch's cat to show up – or any other cat for that matter – because he felt like kicking something. A house-elf or a younger Hogwarts student would also do, as long as it was someone smaller and weaker than him.

The corridors stayed empty though. Most of the students were probably sitting in their cosy common rooms chatting with their friends or doing their homework. He also still had those pesky Potions class assignments to do. Potions was usually his favourite subject, but not today.

Naturally he could have borrowed the book just to get the assignments done, but getting back the book that he had forgotten gave him an excuse – not that he needed excuses – to get away for a moment. Frankly put, socialising with Crabbe and Goyle all day long wasn't exactly intellectually stimulating, as loyal friends as they were. The other Slytherins around him were getting on his nerves as well. Everyone seemed to answer his questions with a 'yes' nowadays, whether they meant it or not. He decided that was a good thing as long as they were on his side. The problem was: you never knew.

When pulling the Potions classroom door handle Draco frowned. Odd. Who would put a locking charm to a classroom door? It was a simple little spell that wasn't hard for a sixth-year student like him to undo, but it was still strange. Taking his wand he unlocked the door. In case the twit behind this nonsense still resided inside he was going to let out all of his annoyance over the idiot.

What didn't fall him in, was to knock. Or a thought that whoever had locked the door might have got reasons and most likely wouldn't appreciate to be disturbed.

Draco froze in the doorway, and then he backed away very, very quietly. And then he shut his mouth. Air, he needed air. It felt like he was suffocating. Probably because he had forgotten to breathe. Staggering to the wall for support he took a couple of deep breaths. Was he hallucinating? If not, had she seen him?

As quietly as his life had depended on it he opened the door just enough to be able to confirm if his eyes had betrayed him or not.

There she was, Hermione Granger, the unbearable know-it-all, sitting on the teacher's desk and – and – and touching herself! He didn't know if he should feel sick or what. To be truthful Draco didn't feel the slightest trace of sickness. No, he felt hot. He was convinced he was blushing like he had never done before.

She was sitting sideways to him, eyes closed and breathed heavily. It was not like she was naked or anything. She had all her clothes on, but her hand was under her skirt moving in a way that made it clear what she was doing. His imagination certainly made sure to make up for every detail he didn't exactly see.

Trying to calm down he pondered his options. He could walk in and laugh at her on top of his lungs. She would probably turn a nice shade of red and promise him pretty much anything if he did keep his mouth shut about this.

That didn't seem like a completely uninteresting scenario to him, but for that he would need to gather up his act. He wasn't sure if he was even able to form a complete sentence right now, with all the dirty thoughts running through his head, much less to come up with a witty insult to throw at her. There also was, of course, the possibility that she would try to hex him into oblivion. Hermione Granger was a very capable witch after all and he wasn't sure if he wanted to take his chances with her.

Or he could just leave and pretend this never happened. Try to drive the images from his brain. Like that would work! The images of her were surely etched to his mind forever by now.

Since the harm was already done, Draco decided, he might as well stay a bit longer. He couldn't deny he was sort of enjoying the view and it wasn't likely that she would notice him now if she hadn't done it when he opened the door in the first place. He didn't want to even think what would happen if she caught him peeping, because that would without doubt involve awkwardness beyond it's all known limits. Not to mention, all possible curses cast at him.

Her bosom was rising in tact of her heavy breaths and her face was decorated by an expression that suggested she was experiencing some unearthly sensations. As he watched her he wondered who she might be thinking of that passionately. Well, she was doing it on a teacher's desk so it could be a teacher.

That made perfect sense when you thought about it – it was Hermione Granger we were talking about after all. He just knew that she had been ecstatic over those extra assignments Snape had given them today. A disturbing thought struck him. Could it really be, uh, Snape who was the object of her desires? For his own mental health's sake Draco dropped that thought.

Watching her sensual being was starting to affect him badly. In his mind he had already walked over to her to convince her that he could make her feel even better than that and in his mind Hermione responded by tearing off his clothes. Then… Now her other hand slid under her blouse, an action which made her let out a small delighted whimper.

That was too much for Draco. He barely managed to put a new locking charm on the door before he ran off. Dashing trough the corridors to the stairs he hoped the ground floor boys' bathroom was unoccupied. He desperately needed some alone-time with the images of Granger in his head.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So what do you think? Is it too naughty, too weird, too anything? Found it even the slightest entertaining? I welcome criticism and would really love you to leave a review._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Thank you to all of you for your reviews, favs and follows! They really mean a lot to me.  
_

 _This fic is slightly AU with Snape still being the Potions teacher..._

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling. Please don't sue._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 2**

It had been a terrible night. Draco had hardly got any sleep at all as Granger appeared before him as soon as he closed his eyes. He dreaded for the upcoming Potions lesson. Not only had he forgotten to do his assignments, but she was also going to be there. Not that he _needed_ to avoid her, he reminded himself. He simply just felt like doing so. For the rest of the year.

Damn that Gryffindor Muggle. Why should he be the one paying for the consequences of her carelessness? It was completely unfair. Not that fairness had ever mattered to Draco Malfoy unless it worked for his advantage. He flinched as he felt his fingernails in his palms.

He couldn't even make a sneer about it without her knowing his involvement in the whole episode. If there was any way for him to actually use his new-found knowledge, he wasn't seeing how he could do it without her hexing him into the next century. Embarrassing her didn't seem like a goal worth the risks. It would also be a lot more embarrassing to himself to admit that he had been watching.

Being lost in the dark forest of his thoughts he walked into someone as he rounded the corner on his way to the breakfast in the Great Hall. He hastily collected his bag from the floor and shot a haughty stare at – Potter, who watched him irritatedly. With Granger right behind him.

Before Draco could stop himself his eyes were drawn to where her skirt ended and he found himself thinking that her legs were kind of well-shaped. He masked the sheer terror he felt for a moment in a grunt and quickly turned to make his way back to the dungeons. He had lost whatever feelings of hunger he had got.

"Watch it, ferret!" he heard the scar-head utter as he made his retreat with all the dignity he had left. He could sense the curious eyes of the golden trio goggling at him. He put an effort into making what he hoped to be a confident looking strut until he was out of their sight. What he least needed right now was them wondering about his business.

He decided to finish as much of the Potions assignments as possible with the time that skipping the breakfast gave him. That would also give him something else to think about than Granger's dirty secret life which she had so well hidden from everyone. Who would have ever thought her having the nerve to do that in a classroom. He was ready to bet Granger's knickers on that this kind of thing would be a horrible shock for Potty and Weasel had they ever found out.

Stealthily Draco entered the Potions classroom to finally get back his forgotten book, only to realise to his utmost horror that it was neatly placed on Snape's desk. It took all his willpower to pick up the book. Who knew what exactly Granger might have done with it. He would have to replace that book at the first opportunity. He decided he would send an owl already today.

* * *

The two-hour Potions lesson had never seemed as long as it seemed to Draco that morning. Not only did Snape eye his poorly completed homework dissatisfied and commented having higher expectations of him, but Draco couldn't keep himself from giving strange looks to Snape's desk from time to time. That was seriously interfering with the day's assignment of brewing an Anti-wizardpox potion.

Just as he had managed to concentrate long enough to successfully slice the hardy Peacebloom root into a neat pile of same-sized bits and was about to carefully blend it in the greenish liquid in his cauldron, he became sort of aware of Granger approaching him. For a moment he lost the control of his fingers and watched paralysed as the chopping board clattered onto the floor.

Swearing under his breath because the girl couldn't take some other route to the ingredients cabinet, he scraped the bits from the floor knowing he wouldn't have time to slice another root. True that his desk happened to be between Granger's desk and the cupboard, she still could have shown some sort of decency by not creeping behind his back like that. The fact that her fetching ingredients had never during the past five years bothered him before was slipping his mind.

Frowning he threw the root slices, mixed with some dust they had gathered on the floor, into his potion. It gave an angry sizzle. He hurried to stir it three times clockwise and two times counter-clockwise as the instruction stated. He suspected that the consistence of the potion shouldn't be turning grainy like that.

He ventured a quick glance in the direction of Granger's desk. She was now happily pouring something into her potion from a small bottle, probably the one which she had ruined his potion to get, and looked pleased with the results.

He looked down at the instruction and realised that he also had forgotten dragon tears. He rushed to the cupboard to search for the item. After what seemed like an all too long time for his potion to simmer unattended he found the missing ingredient behind small packages of spider legs and bat wings.

Three drops wasn't it? He checked the amount twice before letting the shimmering liquid drop into the cauldron. Why wasn't it turning dark green like it should? Instead Draco's potion had gotten a sad grey colour. He re-read whole the instruction only to realise that he should have put in the lacewing flies before the dragon tears. With a sigh he added them and made sure to stir correctly to save whatever there was left to save. He hated to admit that even Crabbe's and Goyle's potions were looking better than the now vomit-coloured thick goo in his own cauldron.

This couldn't be happening. He was good at Potions. He took pride in the fact that he had never put in ingredients in any potion in wrong order – well, that was until today. How could he let her get to him that badly? He had seen something he wished he hadn't, something unexpected and private, but he should have been able to put that on the back of his mind, shouldn't he? At least he should be able to restrain from jumping at the walls each time he saw her. If he couldn't erase all about the last night from his brain he would at least suppress and deny it. He was good at suppressing and denying after all.

This might take some time, Draco realised, when he saw her walking up to Snape's desk and handing in her completed potion as innocently as ever. His mind was filled with visions of her naked on the desk at that exact moment. She on the other hand didn't seem even a bit bothered about what she had been doing on that same desk just the night before. He was pretty certain he wouldn't ever be able to look at that desk normally again.

He couldn't be entirely sure of it, but he thought that her eyes might have been lingering on Snape's features a millisecond longer than necessary. That made him feel very uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted his imagination to come up with were scenes with professor Snape leaning over Granger! If he had to have fantasies of her, Draco quite preferred the ones with himself with her.

He pushed away the thoughts with a shudder and bottled some of his Anti-wizardpox potion that looked like a complete disaster now. Snape gave it a very stern look but didn't say a word as he handed it in.

* * *

Listening absent-mindedly to Harry's and Ron's rambling about yesterday's Quidditch practise Hermione was eating her lunch and going through her Arithmancy homework in her head. There might be a pop-up quiz after all. Professor Vector was particularly fond of them and there hadn't been one in a while. Hermione quite liked Arithmancy, but the prospect of a quiz was making her a bit nervous as always. It never mattered how well-prepared she was or how well she mastered the subject, the element of surprise made her feel like she wasn't prepared enough.

There it was again. The feeling of being observed. She had been having that feeling all the morning and now it was tugging at her attention once again. It was only a slight disturbance in the atmosphere and had no logical explanation really, nevertheless she couldn't deny it was there. With as much subtlety as she could manage, she slowly turned her head to let her gaze sweep over the Great Hall.

Rows of students were enjoying their meals and conversing with their friends. Someone at Hufflepuff table was enthusiastically telling a joke that made all his peers around him to burst into loud laughter. As far as she could tell nobody was staring at her, not even giving her side-way glances. The Hall was full of students as it was in the middle of the lunch time, so it could be easily missed though.

What wasn't easily missed was Draco Malfoy's blond head as he made his way through the Hall to the Slytherin table. She almost blushed at a particularly vivid memory of her last night's fantasy that flashed into her mind.

It had been far more exiting to let herself think about him in that way than she cared to admit. Even with all the hostility between them it had felt amazing, or maybe that was a big part of the reason why it had felt that good. Whatever the explanation was, it still was refreshing and she looked forward to returning to that fantasy at least a few more times.

As if he had somehow known her line of thought, he gave her an angry glare. She realised that she had been following him with her eyes as he sat down, picked food on a plate and, then after only two bites, started moving it around the plate with his fork. Such a shame he had to be an intolerably foul git in reality. She sent him an equally evil eyeful before turning to her friends.

"So when is the first game of the season?" she asked.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** Thank you once again for reading this. I'm trying to keep updating at least once a week._

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling. I don't make any money out of this._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 3**

Who had known it would be this much fun? Hermione was thoroughly enjoying it. It had now been over a week since she discovered the Draco-fantasy and she still hadn't gotten enough of it. Only the Snape-one had been able to entice her imagination longer than this. It was almost scary how having fantasy-Draco's arms around her, his fingers tangled in her hair and his sweaty body against hers, felt so wrong and yet so right at the same time.

Taking her time to listen for unexpected steps echoing from the stone walls, and finding nothing but silence, she peered around the corner to an, indeed, empty hallway. After a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure nobody was following her, she hurried over to a small door in the middle of the corridor, quickly entered and then locked the door.

"Lumos," she whispered.

The space was small and stuffed with objects. There was a large bundle of broomsticks tipped against the back-wall and trunks with old Quiddicht equipment on the floor. She leaned on the only uncovered wall and found an empty spot for a candle she had brought on a dusty shelf in front of her. There were flags sporting all the different house-colours on the shelf and she picked up the green and silver one to let it unfold.

This was the place that she felt she could really connect to him. Her favourite scenario had become the one in which Draco followed her into an empty corridor after a class and they started throwing insults at each-other. The bickering that ensued reminded only too much of their real arguments.

The difference was that it ended with Draco suddenly pulling her into his arms and starting to snog her with all the desperation in the world. Then it would proceed into a very conveniently placed broom closet... She felt flustered and hot when only starting to think about it.

Of course there were lots of other exiting possibilities too. Like them being in a detention together and left alone unattended. Or the one in which they were in the library. She had bumped into the real Malfoy in the library quite a few times, so that setting was a somewhat realistic one. Both of them would be wanting to borrow the same book or use the same table for studying and it would end up with both of them using the table for something entirely different. Or in the case of the book, doing it against a bookshelf, the book completely forgotten.

There were also the Quiddicht pit, the Great Hall at night and even the sneaking into Slytherin boys' dormitories. Naturally she couldn't actually use any of these other locations to have her little adventures in, so the broom closet it was. The closet also felt intimate and relaxing since there was very small chance for anyone to walk in.

For some reason she felt almost guilty about having these thoughts about Malfoy. The prospect of anyone ever finding out seemed somehow essentially worse than if anybody had known about Snape being the object of her naughty imagery. But how could anyone have guessed what she was thinking of even if they found her here wrapped in the Slytherin colours? The only thing they would be wondering about, was what she was doing in the broom closet alone at this hour.

Lately she had often caught Malfoy giving her sour looks, and sometimes even blank stares that couldn't be interpreted. This was making her nervous, but, she had told herself hundreds of times, there was no way he could ever know about the things that she was fantasising about him. Mind-reading was advanced magic beyond the knowledge of a Hogwarts student's and it was not possible that Malfoy could know how to use that kind of magic. Besides, why would he be practising it on her to begin with?

The fear of someone finding out was silly, she knew. Still she couldn't help having a small, nagging feeling like she was having almost too much fun. But why shouldn't she? These things usually didn't last for long so it was best to enjoy it fully while it did.

An imaginary Draco was instantly there holding her tightly and whispering in her ear that no-one should ever know about them. If they did, her friends would distance themselves from her and his family would disown him. That made her kiss him with all the more desire and dig her fingers under his shirt to let them travel along the lines of his lean torso. Even if the world made them enemies, no-one could take these secret moments from them.

* * *

Was he losing his mind? Having lived quite an unsatisfactory life thus far Draco Malfoy had still never felt quite this unhappy in all of the years of self-denial and hiding his true emotions. Given that all his choices were made for him in advance, at least he had always had the control over his own mind. Now it was as if he was losing this final part of himself that he still could call his own.

He should at least be able to stop fantasising about her as soon as he lay his eyes on her, and all the times he didn't. It wasn't like the annoying know-it-all Granger had become anyone beautiful and attractive overnight. On the other hand, she never had looked that bad either – despite of whatever insults he might have thrown at her at times. Although, this was not something he would ever admit out loud, not even under a Cruciatus curse.

Now it was like he was enchanted by her through some dark magic. He watched her as she scribbled notes on a parchment as the teacher was talking. Her eyes were shining with excitement and her curls were softly bouncing as her quill moved on the paper. He felt a terrible urge to touch her delicate face. Luckily she was sitting two desks away so he couldn't actually reach out his hand to complete the action.

Reluctantly he moved his eyes to the book in front of him. Not because he was able to see what was written, but because no-one should see him staring at her in a class. They would start believing that he liked her or something. That would be a real disaster.

Ancient Runes had always been one of his favourite subjects. Partly because Pothead and Weaselbee didn't take it and also very few other Slytherins were there. No-one he knew well. The class consisted mostly of Ravenclaws and some Hufflepuffs. That made it somehow a more relaxing environment than all the other classes where Draco had to keep his guard up all the time.

At the moment he couldn't have been happier about the absence of Granger's regular entourage. At least he didn't need to worry about them turning violent if they saw him gazing at her direction.

He also felt a need to confront her somehow and after this lesson was the best chance he would get. He didn't know what he would say, but he needed some sort of assurance that she had not really put him under some sort of spell.

"Mr Malfoy?" the professor's voice echoed through his daze.

"Uh, I don't know," he automatically replied getting a stern look.

"We're on the page 152. Anyone else who can answer?"

Guiltily Draco flipped to the correct page. He couldn't stop himself from smiling when Hermione declared the right answer. She seemed to be glowing and he knew it wasn't because she wanted to bask in the glory of knowing, but of the true happiness of getting to share her knowledge.

She was constantly on a quest for more knowledge, and that was just so appealing. In his mind she was pushing him onto a desk and he was begging her to teach him everything that she knew. She kissed him slowly and then climbed on top of him to do exactly that.

Desperate to distract himself from that line of thought Draco pushed the tip of his quill into his palm. The pain made him return to the reality. He couldn't keep this up. He needed to do something about this. He was going mad and it was her fault, well, mostly.

Until the end of the lesson he made sure to keep himself occupied with copying runes to his parchment and not to look at her. Afterwards he hurried after her even though he put a lot of effort into making it appear as if he wasn't hurrying at all.

"So, Granger," Draco drawled to get her attention, "your hair looks perfectly bushy today."

She whipped around at an astonishing speed. "And your complexion looks perfectly pale as death, as always."

"Well, thank you." He sneered to get some sort of reaction. She was very easy to annoy after all and that was amusing. Surely enough she was already biting her perfect lower lip.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Been practising any new, weird spells lately?" he asked casually.

"The same ones that you should have been practising if you paid any attention in class."

He flinched. "I mean, besides that. You seem to hang out extensively in that library. Found any interesting new books? In the Restricted Section maybe?"

She was eyeing him suspiciously. "Why this sudden interest to my reading habits?"

"I was just trying to make conversation," he lied knowing she wasn't really fooled.

"Since when do you make civil conversations with Mudbloods?"

Draco frowned. That was completely unnecessary. He hadn't even called her Mudblood since the fourth year. He didn't understand why her mentioning that word was making him feel so uneasy.

"Maybe I shouldn't then," he spat. All the frustration and confusion he was feeling was surfacing and her giving him that antagonistic look wasn't helping at all.

"Nobody asked you to."

"Fine."

"Great."

She wasn't moving. She should have already turned on her heels and gone. Instead she was looking at him kind of expectantly. That was odd.

"Maybe you should stop being so judgemental," he said not really knowing where it came from. "Or is it the only Gryffindor way to be?"

Hermione's eyes got first wider and then thinner as she was processing what he had said.

"Are you giving me ethical advice?!"

The fury in her eyes made her seem truly irresistible. All Draco wanted was to pull her in his arms and kiss her right now. But he didn't. He was feeling increasing panic at his own reaction and did the only thing that he knew: fled.

"You horrible, conceited, foul Slytherin snake!" The flood of insults followed him as he walked away. He was hoping she wouldn't hex him. Although he couldn't see how anything could make this worse than it already was.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** I'm glad for the positive response this fanfic has received. Thanks for reading as always._

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling. I don't make any money out of this._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 4**

Carefully Hermione closed the door to the now very familiar broom closet. It was only early evening, but she had been too anxious to wait until later like she usually did. She had come here directly after dinner, making excuses to go to the library to check up something. Naturally she had taken very good care to make sure that nobody was following her.

At the dinner, Malfoy had given her a particularly scorching glare and that was making her feel even more, eh, inspired than usual. There had been lots of similar looks from him since the other day when he started bugging her after the last Ancient Runes lesson. He was really infuriating, but that only made her fantasies of him more passionate.

Slowly she drew her fingers along her neck, up and down. It was only too easy to imagine it was Draco doing it. She closed her eyes and saw him as clearly as if he had been there, pinning her to the wall and watching her with all sorts of emotions raging in his grey eyes. Then his expression softened and he leaned close enough for her to feel his breath on her lips. That was all it took to make her knees go weak.

Shivering she opened her eyes to make some of the almost frightening intensity of the image disappear. None of the earlier pictures that her imagination had painted had ever seemed this real. Reminding herself it was only a harmless fantasy, she still couldn't shake the feeling she probably shouldn't be enjoying thinking of the albino ferret quite this much.

She should be careful not to start blurring the line between the real Malfoy, who was without doubt a spiteful git, and the fantasy-Draco, who was, well, with an afterthought, actually a lot like the real one, but slightly less hateful and a lot more passionate. She wouldn't want to accidentally kiss the real one when he started arguing with her for whatever reason. Not that it wouldn't likely shut him up.

To think of it, that had already been alarmingly close at their last exchange. Somehow she had almost forgotten that it was the real Malfoy she was talking to and partly expected him to lean over to kiss her. That was far too careless of her.

Although he had seemed different than usual. Not really less annoying or less self-absorbed, but there was something she couldn't pinpoint precisely. If anything, he had been more irritating than usual. He had dared to act like she was the prejudiced one. That was just too laughable. Not that she cared about what he thought of her.

And she would like to keep it that way. After tonight she would take a break from the fantasies, or go back to Snape for a while. It wasn't healthy to let Malfoy occupy that much of her past-time activities. Apparently she had become more aware of the real one since she had noticed all the glaring he had done lately. That certainly wasn't a good sign.

For the moment she let her mind turn to the daydream-Draco who was impatiently waiting to get her out of her robes. He grabbed her even more desperately than usual, his lust-filled eyes imprisoning hers. His lips brushed hers very gently at first, but soon with growing need. Tonight she would be only his and then it would be over.

* * *

It was Saturday morning and Draco was going through thick volumes of spell books piled on a desk in the most secluded corner of the library. He had been in the library for two hours since breakfast already. He had spent there all of his free time for the last three days. Well, to be precise, all his free time after that conversation with Granger.

With formidable devotion he had gone through all the books that he managed to find on anything related to seduction or love spells. There were many on the subject, but most of them were about spells or potions with very temporary results. Determined to find something, he had browsed shelf after shelf and taken special care to look for mind-controlling spells.

The only real result of his search had been the love potion, Amortentia, and a lot of other weaker variants of it. But it was not even possible that he could have been drinking a potion without noticing so that just couldn't be it. There was also, of course, the Imperius curse. Although he wasn't sure if it could be used to control someone's feelings. Not that it was likely that anyone in Hogwarts would be using unforgivable curses on him.

He was coming to the conclusion which he had deep down known all along. It was not a spell, nor a potion. He had been trying to fool himself for the last couple of days wishing it could be anything but his own emotions toying with his mind.

It all had started on that cursed night when he had seen her, but had it really? Could it be possible for him to all of a sudden find Granger so bewitching that she was occupying his thoughts entirely, only because of what he had seen?

A wall of panic crushed through him and he gripped the nearest book and opened it at random page. The characters in ink were doing complex motions before his eyes. Being honest to himself was a rare experience to Draco and he was not at all liking the direction of his thoughts.

A devilish voice was whispering that he had liked her from the beginning. When he had seen her in class in the first year, he had instantly been impressed by her knowledge and talent. He had even found her cute.

That was before all the other things had gotten in the way. Like the blood-purity ideals which his parents had taught him, and her dimwitted friends. She was so different from them, that it was completely beyond his understanding why she was socialising with them at all.

Wait, since when was this thing about anything else but sexual frustration? Then again, added the voice which was not going to be silenced after it had got through in the first place, it always had been. His feelings for her had merely taken twisted ways of showing. Such as him being angry and mean to her whenever he didn't feel in control of them, or whenever that red-headed idiot was at her side. Especially then. And that was all too often if you asked him.

Draco felt like screaming. Was there no end to these revelations that were flowing his mind now that he had began to put the pieces together? He lay over the book and buried his head on his arms. Desperation for not knowing how to handle all this was overwhelming him.

All the times when he had argued with Granger were flashing into his mind with a completely different angle now. Even the time when she had hit him in the third year. He had felt shocked, but oddly fascinated. Or the Quidditch World Cup when he had been so concerned about her safety that he had ran to warn her about the oncoming Death Eater attack, even if he had made it look like he was taunting her. There was also the Yule Ball when he hadn't been the least surprised of how fantastic she had looked that evening, and had felt sort of irked at all the twats who were suddenly giving her appreciative looks.

Shouldn't it at least have been obvious that everything was lost after their last encounter when she had been yelling all those insults at him and all he had been thinking of was to turn back and kiss her and hope that she would kiss him back? How could he have been too blind to see it?

Slowly he lifted his head, only to detect Hermione standing by a bookshelf a few steps away and watching him. She had a curious gleam in her eyes. At first he thought he was imagining her, but then she seemed to wake up from a haze and took a step forward.

"Everything alright, Malfoy?"

If ever, he now wished there was a Portkey on the table so that he could be somewhere else at that instant. For how long had she been standing there, witnessing his inner demise?

"Sod off, Granger," Draco managed to say. He put his best effort to sound angry and scowled, but it turned out sort of half-hearted.

Even the effect was all wrong as she stepped closer to his desk and traced her fingers along the spine of the book on top of his pile. " 'Ardenath Bing's Complete Guide to Spells for Changing Impressions'," she read. Her surprised gaze met his now even paler than usual countenance.

Before she had the time to open the book or inspect the other more or less indiscriminating titles, he stood up, leaned over the table and grabbed her hand.

"Please, leave."

"If only you let go of my hand."

Draco instantly released his grip. She graciously turned and went. He was so relieved that she was gone, that he only now noticed his hands were shaking. He fell back into his chair. Apparently it was always possible for things to get worse.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:** My sincerest apologies for updating later than usual. I started adding things and the next update might also be a bit late. But it's only For Your Entertainment.  
_

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling. I don't make any money out of this._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 5**

The wind was blowing leaves around and whipping them against the window where a few of them got stuck between the frames. There they strove for their freedom until a new stronger gust caught them. The afternoon was progressing slowly, something which almost never happened to Hermione. She was finishing her Transfiguration essay sitting in a large armchair in the common room.

She loved writing essays and usually she had no problems to dive into a subject and forget everything else around her for a few hours. It was like discovering a fantastic new world each time she studied something new and structured her thoughts about it on a parchment. Today she was feeling restless and less engaged in her study process than usual.

Harry and Ron were playing Wizard's chess and hoping that their essays would write themselves. Or maybe it was that they were waiting for Hermione to write their essays. She snorted at the thought. All these years she had helped them to do their homework and they still would hardly even listen to her advice. Instead they would concentrate on mechanically copying everything that she was saying to their parchments.

Stretching she got up and gathered her books that were lying open on the floor around her chair.

"Are you finished with your work?" Harry looked up from the chess game which he seemed to be losing.

"Yes, I think I'm going to take a walk. Need some fresh air before the dinner."

"Aren't you going to help us with our essays?" complained Ron.

"I was thinking that maybe this time you could write them independently." Hermione smiled sweetly and didn't stay to listen to their protests.

She took her books to the girls dormitory and got her coat. When she walked past her friends again, they were fully entangled in the chess game. She heard Ron howling at a supposed victory when she went through the portrait hole. She made a small bet with herself that they would likely not even have started doing their homework before she got back.

Hurriedly she went down the stairs and towards the entrance hall on the ground floor. When she was passing a broom closet on her way, she felt a familiar draw to enter it. A tall, blond Slytherin appeared in her mind, leaning on a wall and winking at her. That made her speed up her pace and ignore her impulse to let him take her hand and seduce her with his silvery stare.

Finally outside she breathed in the refreshing autumn air. It had proven to be a lot more challenging to stop fantasising than she had thought it would. It was like her mind was working on an opposite route. The more she tried not to think about Draco the more she did. The naughty images entered her mind at the most inappropriate moments, such as in the common room surrounded by people or in the middle of the breakfast.

Last night her decision to stop fantasising had really been wavering, so she had tried thinking of Snape instead. She had sneaked out to have a quiet, private moment in the Potions classroom. But as soon as she had closed her eyes it was Draco touching her. It was as if professor Snape had somehow lost his appeal ever since she had began fantasising about Malfoy.

Thereafter she had even tried to find a new target for her desires and turned her mind to Neville, who admittedly had gotten quite handsome over the years. That should have worked perfectly. Neville was getting more and more charismatic for each day, and was also brave and had a nice personality.

Nevertheless, the accursed Slytherin brat insisted on entering her mind instead. That was highly annoying, if not alarming. She had left feeling dissatisfied, and that had only helped more uninvited thoughts to invade her mind through the whole night.

Her feet had now taken her to the lake and she stood at the shore watching the dark waves. She felt like her mood was comparable to the water. Why couldn't she get that loathsome cockroach out of her head? It was not like she really liked him. Not the real Malfoy anyway.

No, it was more like she had created this fantasy creature that didn't exist in reality, and now it had gotten out of control and was roaming freely as it saw fit, like a monster born of a thought-experiment.

Of course this monster was fed with real things and was only getting fatter for each glower from Malfoy. But that didn't mean she liked him for real. How could she have? He was always insulting her friends and had been pestering her ever since she could remember. Harry and Ron considered him an outright enemy. She wouldn't go quite that far, but she wouldn't hesitate to defend her friends against him. It was often at those times Malfoy chose to attack her verbally.

Still she had to admit that the real Draco was intriguing in some ways. Behind his wall of arrogance there was a depth that could only be vaguely outlined. Clearly he was very clever and resourceful. If only he had done something positive with it he would have become a great wizard.

The breeze was making her shiver so she turned back towards the castle. The sky was swept in grey clouds and there might be a storm coming. Maybe there was something she wasn't seeing? Malfoy had behaved rather strangely the last weeks after all. He seemed troubled, looking tired and distracted in class, and that library incident had proven he was seemingly devastated over something.

Finding him in that state of mind had made her imagination race in all possible directions in search for an explanation. He had also been desperate to get her to leave, desperate enough to ask nicely. When she though about her recent interactions with him, she realised that he had not even said anything particularly mean to her in a long time. His insults had kind of gotten... softer?

Was it possible that he was growing out of being an intolerable prat? And whatever that was worrying him was giving him a push in the right direction? Now, that sounded too good to be true. Still, she might as well try to concentrate on this new mystery that she felt compelled to solve. It would keep her mind occupied and allow her to get some distance to the fantasy monster that she had created.

By the time Hermione had reached the main doors of the castle she was already full of determination. She decided that her first action to get some clues, was to find that peculiar book that Malfoy had been reading. She directed her steps to the library.

* * *

The storm was howling at full rage around him. Draco had climbed to the Astronomy Tower to get a good look at it. He had loved storms since his early childhood. Watching the lightning cleaving the night-sky around him and having the thunder drown any other sounds gave him some strange kind of comfort.

It was something about him feeling so small and feeble compared to the magnificence of the nature surrounding him. The immense power of the weather was more than any human could ever have. Even the greatest witches and wizards casting their most powerful spells could never come close to the strength of the storm. There was a certainty in knowing that he would always be weaker than that and it was alright. He didn't need to be strong.

At the same time he felt more courageous when watching storms, than he felt at any other time. Having always been cautious and not being brave or dumb enough to do anything dangerous, he felt like this was his way of provoking the fate. The Astronomy Tower was the highest point in the landscape after all and there were several metal constructions here. If the lightning was to strike the castle, it most certainly was going to strike here. It was energising to have this one foolish thing that he wasn't afraid of doing.

The gone two weeks had been distressing to Draco. Clearing his head by watching the scene with the violent lights ferociously eating the sky before him was the best thing that could have happened to him right now. It was simply beautiful. For a long while he just sat there, enjoying the wind tearing at his cloak. Forgetting for a moment that he even had a problem.

So how would he get rid of it? He hadn't asked for these feelings for Granger. Nor did he want to be having them. Only because he knew about them didn't mean he had to like it. There must be some way to get out of this, now that he had identified the root of the problem. It obviously had been a completely wrong approach to try to deny his feelings. Surely he could from this forward concentrate on working on a solution, now that he knew the cause.

There was a plan to be made. He was good at planning, so he should use his strengths and solve this methodically. Should he just kiss Granger, to get her to slap him and be over with it? If he did get a confirmation that she wasn't going to be returning his feelings, maybe he would be able to put all of this behind.

There were weak points with that plan though. He frowned as the image of him snogging her made him feel all warm and giddy. Physical contact with her might turn this thing even worse. Was he prepared to take a risk of becoming a lovesick fool pining for someone who hated him? Even more so than he already was?

Maybe he should simply start avoiding her at all costs instead. So far he had done rather poor job at that. He should stop stealing glances at her and keep away from places where she was likely to be, like the library. Also, he would make sure not to sit facing the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

It probably wouldn't be easy, but if he didn't have to see her so often, it should be possible for him to start getting over her. He should also start concentrating on other things that he liked, like Quidditch. Flying and fresh air should take his mind off of her. Certainly a game would be enough to keep him occupied for an hour or two at least.

It started raining hard. Stepping nearer to the edge Draco let the rain soak him completely. The cold water seeping through his clothes felt purifying. While standing in the rain he was feeling carefully hopeful about the future. He wasn't overly confident about his plan as it still lacked some edge, but it would be a decent start. As the thunder was ebbing out he finally went inside. That night he slept better than in a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:** Thank you, all of you who've reviewed the story this far, for your kind words! I might not manage to incorporate the ideas that you give me in this story, but I'll probably shamelessly use them in any future story.  
_

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling. I wish I would be making money out of this, alas I'm not._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 6**

Despite of all of Draco's good intentions, ignoring Granger was turning out to be even more difficult than he had anticipated. He wasn't giving up that easily though. He had valiantly made it to Monday lunch without seeing her, but he still had difficulties to participate in any conversations at the Slytherin table. The knowledge that she was at the other side of the Hall, probably laughing her disarming laughter with her friends, was making him unfocused.

The Potions lesson was even worse. It was impossible to not to notice her entering the classroom, even though he had made sure to be there before anyone else and had taken the desk closest to Snape's, not to feel inclined to turn and look at her. There also were no means for Draco to prevent himself from hearing Hermione when she delivered answers to questions. His head was filled with ideas of how melodious her voice sounded and how much he would like to hear her whispering his name instead. Preferably in a fit of passion.

Once he almost peeked in her direction, only barely managing to instead turn his eyes to Weasley, who was sitting next to her with a dull expression on his face. Draco didn't like the feeling which he got when he saw them sitting together. Also the close proximity to Snape's desk was reminding him of things that he'd rather not been reminded of. Nonetheless, he made it through the lesson without as much as sighing.

When Dumbledore announced at the dinner that there would be a Hogsmeade weekend on the coming Saturday, Draco got an idea. Instead of going through this slow process of trying to kill his feelings, he could bring it to a more painful, yet a lot faster, end. Right now he quite preferred a quicker approach even if it meant suffering briefly.

He spent the rest of the evening devoted to his new plan, locking himself in the dormitory and ignoring anyone's demands to enter. He wrote the lines over and over again, until he had something that appeared authentic enough. The flaw of this plan was that he didn't know how Weaselbee's or Granger's handwriting looked like. His best guess was that Hermione wrote with a fast but neat style, seeing she wrote a lot. Weasley's letters would presumably be somewhat crude and sloppy. The lines were few and scribbled on small slips of paper so he wasn't too concerned about it though.

The finished note said:

" _Would you like to meet me alone at the Three Broomsticks?_

 _If you do, please be there on Saturday at 3pm._

 _Ron"_

The other one was identical, except for being signed by Hermione. Pleased with the results Draco put the notes between the pages of his Potions book and gathered all the less adequate versions to burn them in the fireplace.

It did make sense that Weasel wouldn't have the nerve to ask Hermione on a date directly, didn't it? Draco also counted on that Weasley would be so overjoyed that he wasn't going to question anything. There might be some complications if they spoke about this and realised that none of them had actually sent a note. As long as they didn't do it before the date it should be fine.

Draco didn't want to speculate in how it would make him react, if the two Gryffindors really did get together and he saw them walking hand-in-hand. Or whatever icky ways Gryffindors had for showing off their love. The whole point of this was to rip his heart out, grind it to pieces and to get over his infatuation. It had to be agonising and it was best not to mentally prepare himself to seeing them together. He needed to have the full effect of it when it would happen.

Hardly even closing his eyes that night, he thought time and time again about all the reasons why this was necessary. He had to do something about his feelings that were interfering with everything he did nowadays. This would be the most efficient way. And she really deserved happiness. Shouldn't she be happy with someone who was nice to her and probably had liked her for years?

On the morning's Potion lesson Draco chose a desk in the back of the room. To his contentment Granger and Weasley didn't take seats next to each other. That would make his plan a great deal easier.

When everyone was concentrating on making their potions of the day, and Snape's eyes were focused on a pile of parchments that he was grading, Draco folded the notes into small birds. He whispered a spell to send them flying to their respective recipients. Weasley read his instantly, his face flushing to the colour of his hair. Hermione looked around, then carefully opened her note getting a surprised expression, and then looked at Weasley. His blushing would only make this more believable, wouldn't it?

So, now it was done and couldn't be taken back. For the rest of the lesson Draco saw the two Gryffindors directing a discrete peek at one-another every now and then. Even in his triumph to make the scheme work, Draco couldn't make the hollow feeling in his stomach disappear.

* * *

It had seemed like a smart thing to do, but Draco had regretted it almost immediately. After the Potions lesson he had spent the rest of the day in a haze, having ominous forebodings. When he had seen Hermione sitting next to Weasley at breakfast, the realisation had truly dawned on him. He really didn't want them to get together. His insides were churning at the mere prospect of it and there was a lake of despair dammed in the back of his mind, waiting to dangerously overflow at any moment.

If he was already torn by this turmoil when nothing had happened, how would he be handling it when he actually saw them clinging to one-another, possibly for the rest of their time in Hogwarts? The whole point of this had been to get hurt, but what if his feelings for Hermione didn't go away? That meant he would spend rest of his time in the school dying inside each time he saw her with that idiot!

As the Saturday approached it got worse by each day. After the Ancient Runes lesson Draco had considered running after her and asking her not to meet Weasley in the Three Broomsticks. Of course he would then have to tell her everything and there was no way he could do that. It might also make her want to go to that date even more.

The avoiding Granger resolution had as well flown out of his reach the moment those notes had got wings. Draco was now staring at her more obsessively than ever at each opportunity that presented itself. She was exceptional in every way and he wondered how it was possible that he had not admitted that to himself for years ago.

After one more dinner without being able to down a bite, Draco decided to get out of the Great Hall before Granger would show up. To his great dismay he saw her walking down the stairs at the same time as he got through the door to the entrance hall. He stood there stupidly, not capable of averting his eyes from her. She was advancing towards him, looking at him questioningly.

"Out of the way, ferret," said Weasley who followed her close behind. He was directing a dirty look at Draco. Even Potter was approaching, wearing a decisive expression of someone who was prepared to attack whenever the situation called for it.

Getting his wits back, Draco shot a murderous stare at the red-head. He crossed his arms over his chest instead of stepping away from the doorway.

"Malfoy," Granger's voice had a somewhat impatient edge, "would you mind letting us through?"

Weasley's hand was instantly on her shoulder, pulling her aside. He took a menacing step towards Draco. "I'll make him move. What will he do without his cronies?"

Rage clouded Draco's sight of his goals. He was about to pounce at the ginger oaf. He didn't care that they were three against him, or what the outcome of it would be. There was no way he would let that retarded excuse of a wizard make threats at him. There was no time to cast spells or yell insults, as his fist ached to connect with Weasley's face with a fiery passion.

Before Draco managed to put his violent intent into action, Hermione was pulling Weasley away.

"Stop it, Ron. He's not worth it." Then her worried gaze turned to the Slytherin. "What's your problem, Malfoy?"

At once Draco retreated to the safety of his cold and superior demeanour. He wanted to retort something insulting at all of them, but that wouldn't advance his purposes. Whatever his purposes were. He didn't know it himself anymore. Still he was glad that she had hindered him from resorting to violence. Because him having a jealous outburst at Weasley would not advance _any_ of his purposes.

Just as he was about to let them pass, Crabbe and Goyle stumbled at his back on their way out of the Great Hall.

"Oh, Draco? What are you doing?" Crabbe asked. Then his gaze fell upon the Gryffindor trio and he went into a defensive stance. Goyle followed his example.

Now that he once more was a leader with followers, Draco felt more in control of the situation. Potter had drawn his wand and was fiddling it, and Weasley's aggression was turning his face redder by the moment. Granger's hand went on her hip and there was a challenge in her eyes, as if she was daring Draco to start a brawl. Clearly she held him responsible for anything that would happen.

Curiously that had quite a calming effect on Draco. He sneered. That was familiar and safe, something he knew only too well how to do. Something he could hide his real emotions behind.

"Let's go. They're not worth our time." He walked past the Gryffindors with Crabbe and Goyle on his heels, and made sure to give Weasley a particularly evil glare.

The red-head's hands were clenching into fists. "Feeling secure with your goons around, Malfoy?"

Draco didn't bother answering. He played with a thought of sending Crabbe and Goyle to beat him up later on. That would teach him. Also that way the git wouldn't be in condition to go to Hogsmeade on Saturday. Somehow, Draco suspected, that would come back to bite him when Granger heard about it.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _This is where the fanfic took a different route than originally intended. It might have turned to a slightly more dramatic direction, but I hope you still like it. Feedback is greatly appreciated as always. Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:** I really enjoyed writing some bits of this chapter, and some made me feel uncomfortable while writing. Thanks for reading as always!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 7**

The feeling scorched him like nothing had before. Was it still possible to prevent the date? Draco was staring at flames in the fireplace, the chattering around him fading into the distance. It was Friday night and he sat in the Slytherin common room with Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle. The only thing that occupied his mind was the looming Hogsmeade day and how much he wanted it to never happen.

"So, what do you think, Draco?" Blaise's hand hovering in front of his face distracted Draco from his thoughts.

"About what?"

Pansy made a point of rolling her eyes. "The Hogsmeade tomorrow. Are you coming?"

"I don't know. Don't really feel like it." Draco pretended not to notice them exchanging a glance.

"You never feel like doing anything nowadays," Blaise pointed out. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Draco frowned. "I might tag along for a while," he added to make them drop the questions. He didn't trust any of them enough to share his problems with them.

It didn't look like Pansy was in a mood of letting it go though. "You've been behaving like an insulted Hippogriff the whole week. What's with that?"

Of course she would have to take her usual, too straightforward, approach. The short time that they had dated had taught Draco that Pansy was incapable of keeping her thoughts to herself. Sometimes it could be charming, but mostly it was annoying, especially when her observations were about him. He was glad that they were only friends now, and so was she, as they were getting along a lot better ever since they had broken up. Still she could from time to time irritate the hell out of him by pointing out things that anyone else had the sense to keep to themselves.

Despite of how much he strained his brain, Draco couldn't come up with an answer to her question. All their eyes were on him. They were waiting for him to display signs of weakness, ready to dissect anything he would say. This is what he hated about Slytherins. They never did let anything slide.

"It looked like you wanted to fight with those Gryffindors, but then you didn't," Goyle offered his assistance to the discussion. Crabbe hummed along in agreement.

"Which Gryffindors?" asked Blaise with curiosity in his voice and a sinister sparkle in his eyes. Draco could see him plotting something.

"Saint Potter and his sidekicks, who else? He makes me sick," he said, adding enough loathing into his voice to drown someone in it. Hopefully that would put those prying schemers off the track.

"What did he do now?" asked Pansy measuring him thoughtfully with her gaze.

"Nothing! Does he have to do anything else than to exist?" Draco's voice was gaining in volume more than he liked. It was attracting a few stares from the rest of the common room. He fell into a dark scowl and sank lower on the sofa.

"You sure weren't this grumpy even after the glory-hog put his name in the Goblet of Fire," she informed him.

"The red-haired one looked really angry too," mused Crabbe absently.

"Well, isn't he almost as awful as Potter? Wouldn't miss a chance to insult him." In Draco's mind Weasley was about ten-thousand times worse than Potter could ever be, but he certainly wasn't about to tell them that. He had to put an end to this interrogation before they'd actually manage to find out the truth. The conversation was already going in the completely wrong direction.

"So you were going to fight with Weasley?" Blaise was now directing an unnervingly calculating look at him.

"Aren't I always? Stop with the stupid questions and leave me alone!" Draco instinctively knew that this was the worst thinkable answer, but he couldn't take it anymore. Him glaring at them wildly wasn't very productive either, he was sure.

Each of them got up to move somewhere else, out of his reach.

"Let us know when you're on a better mood." Pansy smiled slightly with something which could have been sympathy. It could also have been amusement.

* * *

Rows of trees were glowing in tones of orange and red against the intensive blue of the sky, looking like slumbering dragons in the distance. The afternoon was sunny, but a mischievous wind was tugging at Hermione's carefully prepared hair. Already a few curls were escaping the loose bun which she had used a good half-an-hour to make look like casual and ladylike at the same time.

Pulling her scarf tighter as she walked along the lanes of the small village, allowing her feet to choose their own course. She had been too embarrassed to tell Ginny that she would be meeting Ron, so she had made some poor excuse and was now taking a longer route to Three Broomsticks than necessary.

The beauty of the day and the oncoming date couldn't keep her mind from wandering to more unpleasant things. For her vexation she hadn't been able to shake the memory of the burning look that Malfoy had given her. It had been a look full of agony and something else that she couldn't name, but was giving her an impression that she was missing something important. For a while he had appeared almost fragile and human. Only to revert to the evil, arrogant git who he usually was.

She had never liked the feeling of not knowing something and that was making her brain work even harder. The book on changing impressions, which she had found after a long search in the library, had not shed much light on the Malfoy-dilemma. It was about how to make better first impressions, by appearing more intelligent, more social or more anything, at first glance, but couldn't be used to fool anyone at length. Who's impressions was he trying to change and for what purpose? And how was it connected to rest of his behaviour that was getting odder by each day?

Looking at her wristwatch Hermione realised it was almost three o'clock. If she didn't hurry she would be late to her date with Ron. She quickened her pace, feeling an anticipation bubble up inside of her. She had waited for something like this to happen for a long time and now that it had, it seemed almost unreal. Ron sending that letter to ask her was a lot more romantic than if he had asked her directly. She hadn't been expecting something like that at all.

Pushing the heavy door open slowly, she entered the Three Broomsticks. Ron was already waiting for her in a booth by a window. She walked over to him and gave him a nervous smile while taking a seat across the table. "Hello!"

He looked up smiling awkwardly. "Hi!"

After a bit in silence he asked: "You want something to drink?"

"Sure," she gave him an encouraging nod and folded her coat beside her.

He scurried off to the bar to get two butterbeers and then put hers in front of her.

"Thanks!" She took a sip while her mind galloped after things to say. Then she came up with something. "It took me a while to shake Ginny off my tail."

"Same here, with Harry. Took a bit of convincing not to get him to follow me here."

They shared a small laugh and started chatting about the usual things, like their friends, school, Hagrid's new explosive pet monster. It was nice and nothing different from their regular lunch time talk.

"I'm glad that you invited me here," Hermione said in an attempt to direct the conversation to a more romantic path.

Ron looked at her with apparent surprise. "But you asked me."

"I'm sure I didn't," she said perplexed.

"Then, who sent the note?" Drawing the letter from his pocket he handed it to her for inspection.

"That's not even my handwriting!" After searching her bag she put her note on the table.

"And that's not mine!" Ron stared at her in disbelief. "Who would send such letters to both of us?"

Scanning the pub for any suspicious activity Hermione tried to recognize the trickster. If someone had gone through the trouble to send those notes, then that person should be around to see if their work had paid off. "Clearly someone who really wanted to get us here together."

They laughed about it. But afterwards she felt somehow disappointed. After all these years that she had liked Ron, he hadn't even shown as much initiative as to ask her to a butterbeer by himself. Wasn't he interested in her enough to make an effort? The Yule Ball entered her mind once again. How he had not asked her and then had ruined it for her.

The darker direction of her thoughts was interrupted by a bunch of Slytherin students of their year entering the pub with a ruckus. They took stools at the bar, a few of them casting glances at Hermione and Ron, then ordered butterbeers and started talking among themselves. Hermione caught herself looking for a blond wizard in their group. She felt almost at ease when she didn't find him there, staring at her and Ron with that tormented look.

The Slytherins were glancing at them a lot more often than was to be expected and snickering a bit. That was unsettling. Hermione couldn't help but to wonder if one of them had sent the invitations and what their motivations could have been.

"Let's leave," she suggested as she saw Ron looking at them with distaste.

* * *

The Slytherin Quidditch practise was proceeding anything but smoothly. Draco's leg had been hit by a Bludger and that was going to be an ugly bruise, but he couldn't care less. He was pretending to be inspecting the sky, looking for the Snitch, while his thoughts were buzzing around like lost bees.

Yesterday he had grudgingly agreed to following his Slytherin posse to Hogsmeade, but he had been very bad company, as they had ungracefully pointed out. He had been contemplating on going to the Three Broomsticks to see Granger and Weasley together, but when it came down to it, he couldn't force himself to do it. When his friends had suggested going there for a butterbeer he had made excuses of not feeling well and made his escape. In all honesty he had not been feeling well at all. On his way back to Hogwarts he had cast a Muffiato and screamed at the empty road ahead of him.

Ever since then his thoughts had been invaded by visions of the two Gryffindors gazing in each-others eyes, laughing together and holding hands. Maybe even sharing a kiss when they walked back to the castle. Needless to say, this was pretty much making him want to poke his brain out with a wand.

In the evening Blaise had approached him, looking smug, and chattered casually about the Hogsmeade trip. He had briefly mentioned seeing Granger and Weasley in the pub, looking chummy with each-other. It had taken all of Draco's willpower to keep himself collected at this knowledge.

It had come to the point where Draco had to admit to himself that his feelings were beyond all hope and that he had driven the girl who he was in love with to the arms of someone else. He had never thought it would be this hard. He surely hadn't intended on suffering this much. And he had no-one else to blame than himself.

The whirring sound of small wings beside his ear brought him back to the present. Turning his head towards the Snitch he saw it speeding away before he had time to catch it. He took off chasing it, but was abruptly hit by a painful impact on his side. Realising it was another Bludger and that he was losing his balance, he looked at the ground that seemed to be all too far below him. Then he fell.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:** I'm trying to keep the update frequency approximately on weekly basis, although I have it difficult to find time to write at the moment. Thanks for reading!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 8**

The tiles in the ceiling weren't really that interesting and it was too difficult to count them. Still they apparently weren't boring enough for him to fall asleep either. Draco would have turned side if it hadn't been that painful. The Hospital Wing bed in which he was lying wasn't that comfortable to begin with.

The second hit by a Bludger had caused him a few broken ribs. If one of their Chasers had not caught Draco when he fell off his broom and helped him to get to the ground, he would have plummeted to his death. Madame Pomfrey had reconnected his bones and made him drink a foul-tasting medicine, but he was still feeling sore and beaten up. And if that wasn't bad enough, he had been ordered to rest for the whole day.

There had to be some changes made before he would get killed. It was as if he wasn't tired or hungry anymore, and he couldn't concentrate on anything for longer than a few minutes at time. Not even a simple game of Quidditch.

So, now that he knew that he was madly in love and couldn't bear the though of Hermione being with anyone else, what was he supposed to do about it? She might already have fallen for Weasley. And even if she hadn't, it was not like Draco could go and spell it out to her that he had feelings. What good would telling her do? She wasn't going to react positively to him suddenly claiming to fancy her after all these years of treating her like dirt. It was not likely that she was even going to believe him.

For some reason there was bitterness to that truth. He wished he had done things differently. Controlled his frustration or at least restrained from calling her names. He had been conceited and frightened. There had been a lot of things that he had been frightened of in his life.

There were also a lot of things that he had taken for granted. People who he had admired, who he now had come to understand weren't all that perfect after all. As a child he had truly idolised his father and wanted nothing more than to become like him. With time he had began to see that things weren't as simple as Lucius thought. Even if his parents didn't seem to comprehend this, Draco was his own person, capable of forming his own views independently, and he didn't always agree with them.

He had always been told that Muggle-borns were unnatural and less gifted. But no matter how much he had tried over the years, he just wasn't able to see what was making Pure-bloods superior to them. If it came down to magical ability, wasn't Granger the most shining example of that conception being wrong? She was without doubt the most competent witch in the whole school. Surely the difference wasn't about intelligence either since she was clearly highly accomplished on that part as well. And it certainly wasn't about the looks either.

His musings were interrupted by an apologetic looking Blaise entering the room. Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle were following.

"Are you feeling well?" Blaise asked with concern in his voice, too much concern it seemed to Draco.

"Been better. I might survive though." Draco smirked tiredly making Blaise relax a bit.

"We brought you chocolate-frogs!" Pansy handed him a box.

"Thanks, the food here is awful. I think the elves make a special soup just for the Hospital Wing, and it is disgusting!"

They all laughed. Draco felt better as his friends stayed to chat and to catch chocolate-frogs for him. They even played a silly card game and he felt childish glee over winning it.

When they were leaving, Pansy stayed behind.

"I'll catch you soon," she said directing a meaningful look at Blaise who replied with a nonchalant nod. Crabbe and Goyle had already lurched out of the room.

"I just wanted to know if you're really feeling fine," she explained, "with all the things that have been happening." Her hand made a vague gesture in the air.

Draco didn't like were this was going. "What things?"

"Well, you know." She shrugged. He could see how she was straining herself not to splutter it out.

"I just thought that you should know that Weaselbee and Granger don't seem to be getting along too well," she said carefully.

It took a lot of effort for Draco not to show his relief too clearly. He had got years of training with scowling though and managed to put a bit of uncertainty in Pansy's knowing expression. "Why would I want to know that?"

"I just thought that you might." She smiled, got up and left him to his thoughts.

When she was out of the door, Draco couldn't wipe away the grin forming on his face. Thank Merlin, he had overestimated Weasley's smoothness. He hadn't expected to feel this fantastic at such a simple bit of knowledge. Certainly he should do something with it.

There was a lot for him to loose, but would he like to live rest of his life in fear? Being brave didn't come naturally to him as a Slytherin, but surely there were things that were worth fighting for? None of the other stuff he had tried had worked anyway.

* * *

Monday's Potions lessons were something which Hermione had secretly looked forward to the whole semester, but this time she did it for completely different reasons. On her way to dinner last night she had overheard Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini talking about how Draco had gotten into an accident at Slytherin's Quidditch practise and was now lying badly injured in the Hospital Wing. Hermione hadn't seen him today at breakfast or lunch either.

Not that she actually cared about Malfoy's well-being. Well, not more than it was considered decent to care about a fellow student anyway. It was no different than the time when Buckbeak had kicked him and she had been worrying about him. Or when he had been turned into a ferret by fake Moody and been bounced into the air and to the ground. That had seemed rather painful even if it was hilarious afterwords. She had been overwhelmingly relieved when McGonagall had put a stop to it. She didn't want to see anyone get hurt, not even someone as vile as Malfoy. It was only natural to feel like that, wasn't it?

To her relief she saw him strutting down the corridor to attend the class, although he looked somewhat more battered than usual.

"What are you so happy about?" Ron asked suspiciously. "You can't be glad about it being Monday and us having Potions."

"Oh, I was just remembering a particularly fascinating part in 'Hogwarts - the History'," Hermione lied, hoping her friends hadn't been following her gaze.

"Still, you shouldn't be looking that cheery when Potions with Slytherins is about to begin. It's going to be torture," Ron complained sourly. He had been ill-tempered ever since the Saturday's date had ended so dishearteningly. They had walked back to Hogwarts mostly in silence, sunken in their own thoughts and it was apparent to both of them that they were back to their friendly relation.

"Brighten up, will you. If you bothered to do the Potions homework once in a while maybe even Snape would get on better mood," Hermione said in an effort to lighten the climate.

"He'll never get on better mood, no matter what," said Harry darkly.

"Mione, did I just hear you defend the old bat?" Ron accused.

As if he had somehow heard the conversation, Professor Snape walked down the hallway to put an end to it.

The lesson proceeded as usual and Hermione took notes of the most interesting bits Snape was saying, but it was hard to concentrate today. Malfoy's eyes flickering to her briefly as he walked past her, had struck her with an insane idea. The emotion which he had been staring at her the whole last week had certainly been passion of some sort. It could have been hate, but it also might have been something entirely else. In many ways the latter option sounded absurd, but in other ways it made horrifying sense.

Glancing in Malfoy's direction she saw him once again absentmindedly staring at the air before him. She thought it was irritating. He was very bright after all and she had always liked the competition that only he could offer her when it came to grades. At this rate there would be no competition at all. Although she had to admit that the disheveled look, which he was sporting today, made him appear a lot less polished and somehow a lot more appealing.

It was as if Draco had somehow known that she was inspecting him, because he looked up, straight at her, and smiled. It was not a sneer like she was expecting. It was not even a smirk, but a genuine, warm smile. She couldn't remember him ever smiling like that. It was shocking how well it suited his features and how fuzzy it was making her feel. Before she could catch herself she was returning the smile.

Hermione was brought back by her ink-well welting over her notes. Blushing furiously she quickly picked it up and cleaned the spilled ink with a spell. Unfortunately her parchment was already stained, and both Ron and Harry were giving her concerned looks. Snape directed a particularly menacing glare at her, but continued the class as if no interruptions had happened.

When everyone was back to pretending to listen to their Professor, Hermione ventured a short sidelong peek at Malfoy. On his face there was a full on smirk directed at her. His eyes were glittering with mischief, and he gave her a discrete wink. She turned to face the blackboard on which Snape was now scribbling, and she made sure not to even look in the general direction of the self-assured git for the rest of the lesson.

It took excruciatingly long time before Professor Snape marked the end of the class by saying: "I expect you all to prepare your recipes for Dreamless Sleep potion for tomorrows practical lesson."

Making excuses to Harry and Ron for going to the library to check more information about the potion before dinner, she walked briskly out of the classroom. When getting into the corridor, she practically ran off and didn't stop until she was safely in the library, hidden between bookshelves. She always felt more secure there, surrounded by books like they were old friends who accepted her and supported her no-matter what.

Since when exactly had she started getting light-headed because of Draco Malfoy's smile? Had he used a spell to change her impression of him? Why in the world was he suddenly smiling at her and shooting her flirty looks? He was acting so differently than all these years during which she had known him and hated him. An unhappy, conflicted Malfoy she could handle, but not a smiling, playful Malfoy. Something was definitively wrong with him, that much was certain. Maybe there was something wrong with her too?

Had she been too careless with the fantasising thing? She thought that she had been pretty particular about drawing lines between her daydream-monster and the reality. The fantasies were only caused by her need for affection and nothing real. There never had been a problem with the Snape-fantasies.

Although the fantasising about Malfoy had admittedly come all too naturally. It also had felt so fantastic it was frightening. Like it was some long-lost piece in a puzzle, one that she had accidentally found. It sounded unbelievable in her ears, but was there a chance that she could have been having some well-hidden feelings for him all along? Was it possible that whatever this was, it was mutual?

The thought made her ears burn. She leaned on a bookshelf, closing her eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. Maybe she was just so lonely that she was starting to imagine things. It was almost too scaring to think that this might be something real. Real feelings were illogical and hard to control. They could also lead to real hurt.

Draco appeared before her inner-eyes grabbing her hands and claiming that he had always liked her. She wanted to open her eyes to make him disappear, but she didn't. All of his usual arrogance was gone and replaced by sincerity like of which she hadn't known he was even capable. He kissed her tentatively and she gave in to the kiss.

Hermione opened her eyes. What would she have done if it was the real Draco before her? The one who still had quite a few qualities which she didn't like.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:** I'm truly sorry for not updating sooner. It has been crazy two weeks at work and with all my other interests. Thanks for your patience!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 9**

The corridors were dark, cold and empty as Draco was aimlessly wandering along them. He wanted to be alone without any need to put on any pretenses or having anyone around wondering about why he was surrounded by this glow. Even Goyle had remarked on it today saying Draco seemed unusually cheery, which gave him a good pointer that his attempts to conceal it weren't really making it.

It was truly perplexing. Draco couldn't remembered having ever felt this happy in his whole life. Still he didn't even have any real reason for it. Not more than Hermione occasionally returning a smile, or him catching her secretly watching him in a class, or searching for him with her eyes in the Great Hall.

The few days since he had made her blush and welt her ink-well in Potions had made all the difference in the world for him. He had never thought that it could be, but now it seemed possible that she might be returning some of his feelings.

Her each smile gave him some sort of strange inner strength, making him feel like he was capable of achieving anything. An unexplainable feeling that everything would be alright.

Of course her presence also made him exceedingly nervous. After the last Ancient Runes class he had got every chance to approach her, but he had contended with watching her walk away. Whatever was causing her to look at him in this new fashion wasn't necessarily strong enough for her not to push him away if he actually made an advance. He reminded himself that she still had lots of good reasons not to like him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to take the risk that she could be shattering his new-found happiness.

He had now come to the library entrance. It would soon be the closing time and he wondered if he should go in to search for Hermione. Somehow it seemed likely that she might be there, alone. That would be a perfect opportunity to strike a conversation.

While he was still contemplating this, the door opened and out came Granger carrying a pile of books. He immediately caught the door to hold it open for her.

"Thanks!" She looked up. "Oh, Malfoy."

"Granger," he acknowledged flashing one of his best smiles. "Doing some late-night studying?"

"And you yourself?"

"Ah, I think the library is just closing so my catching up on Arithmancy formulas might have to wait until morning," he said congratulating himself of his timing. "Want me to help you to carry those books?"

"Wha- what?" she stammered quite uncharacteristically. Her eyes were scanning his face for any hidden malice that might be embedded in his offer.

"They look rather heavy, and although I'm sure you're perfectly capable of dragging them around half the Hogwarts by yourself, I wouldn't mind."

His smirk widened as her mouth opened and not a word came out. It was not often you saw Hermione Granger lost for words. "Oh, I've seen you carrying even bigger piles of tomes. You must quite possibly be the strongest person in Hogwarts," he continued.

She burst out laughing and pushed the pile on his arms. "Very well, then. I wouldn't want to miss the chance to hear more of your wittiness."

The books were pretty heavy. Draco corrected his grasp on them and followed Hermione as she started down the corridor. "Glad you feel that way. After all, I put a lot of effort into being as witty and charming as I am."

She pretended to scoff at this. "I wouldn't go anywhere near as far as 'charming'."

"Well, then I apparently need to work on that part." He gave her a carefree grin. "I'm pleased to know that you find my wittiness entertaining at least."

"Whatever happened to that Slytherin snake who was neither witty nor charming?" Behind Hermione's light tone there was a real question. Her gaze was carefully measuring his expression.

"I think the snake has to grow out of his old skin at some point." Draco gave her an apologetic look. "I know it might not make much difference, but I'm truly sorry about all those things I've been saying to you over the years."

She stopped walking and really looked at him in the eyes, as if searching for any insincerity in them. Her eyes were catching a few golden tones in the dim lightning of the hallway, and they seemed to have a never-ending curiosity enclosed within them. He was mesmerised.

"I never expected to hear that from you, but I'm glad I did," Hermione finally said.

There were a lot of other things Draco wanted to confess, but he didn't know how to phrase all of those things. Bravery was not his strongest characteristic and he was afraid that she might dismiss his feelings.

"May I ask what caused this sudden change of heart?" she asked after they had walked a while in silence.

"Well, it wasn't one sudden change. There might have been some insights that helped though." He realised he was approaching a point where he would have to tell her it all, so he swiftly added:

"Also, who in their right mind would like to stay enemies with the brightest witch of the school? Might turn out dangerous."

He accompanied the words with a smile and enjoyed the effect it had on Hermione. A blush was creeping on her cheeks.

"I still have some painful memories of the third year..." He winked. "Wouldn't want to see you casting spells at me."

"Careful there not to give me ideas, ferret boy," she said, clearly to disguise her embarrassment.

"Here I thought we were having a nice and polite conversation," he drawled with a feigned upset, "and now the insults and threats of violence are coming forward."

She laughed despite of herself. "If only you knew how many new hexes I've learned since the third year. Some of them are really nasty ones."

He smirked. "So, that's what you do in the library for all of those hours."

They had now come to the corridor next to the one that lead to the backstairs of the Gryffindor tower. Draco realised that he had to do something, otherwise she would be gone soon, and he had no idea when he had the next chance to see her. Much less to chat with her like this. That thought was frightening.

"There is also this one more thing." He put the books down on a windowsill. Once in a while even a cowardly Slytherin snake would have to gather all of his courage to take a chance to make great things happen.

Hermione looked at him half questioning, half expectantly. Awkwardly he stepped closer to her. Heat was rising on his face and his heart was racing like it never had, but there was no going back now. He leaned in towards her until he could feel her uneven breath on his lips. All other thoughts disappeared as he caught her soft lips with his. She responded with unexpected enthusiasm and he instantly grabbed her pulling her against himself. Her arms winded around his neck to hold him even closer.

Only after a good while did they let go and looked each-others breathlessly. Hermione's eyes were ablaze with new kind of flames which made Draco lift his hand to caress her neck. Just as he was about to kiss her again, there were voices approaching from the Gryffindor tower stairs.

She quickly drew away from his arms, as her eyes darted towards the sound.

"I have to go." She gathered the tomes from the windowsill and cast one more look at him before walking down the hallway.

As long as she was in his line of sight Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from her frame. He remembered how to move only after she had rounded the corner and he heard her greeting some other Gryffindors. Trying to keep his steps as quiet as possible, he rushed in the opposite direction to put a secure distance between himself and the approaching Gryffindors.

When he was a few corridors and stairs away he stopped and leaned on a wall, letting himself slide down against it. The cold stones felt soothing under his warm fingers. There was a fire roaring inside of him, and this time it was of a good kind. He was longing to taste Hermione's lips and to feel her soft body pressing against his even more now that he had got to experience it once. It had been a lot better than any of what his mind had conjured during the lonely nights.

There was a small piece of uncertainty mixed in the happiness that was washing over him. She had stepped away from him so quickly that he had not got time to respond. Had he been too fast to put moves on her? He had only just apologised to her and she might have needed more time to come in terms with the thought that he wasn't quite the same git anymore. Kissing her right away might have been too much?

He couldn't regret it tough. He had never felt this good about anything. From now on there was nothing that could keep him away from her. Not angry Weaselbee and Potter together. Not even his father's disappointed face, that was now haunting his mind.

Taking a stroll to the astronomy tower, Draco wanted to let some time pass before he would go to Slytherin dormitories. The night was clear and chilly, but he didn't mind. Pulling his cloak tighter around him, he stood there for a long while watching the stars. They seemed brighter than before.

When he finally headed back, Peeves surprised him by jumping at him, shouting loudly that it was already past the curfew. Draco didn't manage to summon enough fright for the taste of the poltergeist so Peeves quickly lost interest in bothering him.

Quietly he entered through the portrait hole and got past a few Slytherins still sitting in the common room. He was relieved none of his friends were there. The smile making its way to his features would surely reveal too much to them and he had no strength left to hide it. After all these weeks of trying to fight his feelings he had no desire to pretend any further. Still he wasn't quite ready to tell the world yet.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N:** I think it's time to wrap it up - in a longer chapter than usual! Thanks for bearing with my irregular updates!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** The characters and places belong to J. K. Rowling. This is only written to hopefully ___entertain_ a few readers._

* * *

 **Only in My Fantasy**

 **Chapter 10**

Sun rays were reaching their fingers through a thin gap in Hermione's bed curtains, tickling her face and filling her vision with orange coloured stains. She drew her blanket over her head and snuggled her pillow tighter. Drifting back to sleep seemed impossible though. Reluctantly she leaned on her elbow and reached for her watch, realising she had missed the breakfast already. The dormitory was empty and light was flowing in.

Ordinarily she woke up early on weekends and felt energetic to get to the library or read a book and throw herself into a new exciting adventure of knowledge. Saturday mornings were her favourite time of the week and she didn't want to waste any of it sleeping. Right now she didn't mind waking up late and having a quiet morning alone. She had been awake half the night, floating in a dreamlike state, thinking about the kiss and about all the possibilities with which it had filled her head.

Lifting her fingers to her lips she felt like Draco's kiss was still lingering there. A fluttering sensation started in her stomach and made her cheeks burn. Kissing Malfoy had been different than in all of her fantasies of him. He had been warm and real. It had been simply more than anything that her imagination had been able to come up with. It had made her feel like truly alive.

All the emotions that the kiss had set in motion were frightening. The desire she had for him had suddenly gotten a lot more substance. It had been easy to dismiss the fantasies, thinking it was only her imagination, and that in reality Draco was a complete prat. Only, he wasn't like that anymore. Even if he still might be the same infuriating Slytherin, he had matured. He was essentially different than the second year who had called her 'Mudblood' for the first time. She had to admit that she genuinely liked him now, despite of his flaws and all.

Yet she was now feeling more conflicted than ever before. Fantasising of him had been easy and uncomplicated. With the real person there were going to be real problems that followed. It might have been exciting to think that they were enemies in her fantasy, but in reality there would be a lot to go through if they got together. His parents were most probably Death Eaters. What would they do to him, or her, if they ever found out? A thought of Lucius Malfoy's icy stare sent shivers down her spine.

The wooden floor felt cold under her bare feet as she got up, and she quickly searched for her slippers under her bed before heading to the bathroom for her morning routine. She tried to concentrate on the warm water of the shower to make the disturbing visions disappear. Massaging her shampoo in her hair with extra care made her relax a bit and helped her put the unpleasant scenarios out of her mind. Her magical anti-frizz shampoo didn't really deliver what the advertisement had promised, but it made her curls slightly more tamed. This morning she wanted the best result possible.

It took a lot longer than usual for her to pick clothes today. She rumbled through almost her whole trunk to find something to dress in. After using a spell to dry her damp hair she evaluated the result in the mirror. She looked almost like as she always did, but there was a faint tint of red on her cheeks and her eyes had a new radiance to them. She felt pretty.

Taking a book she headed for the common room. A small panic went through her mind when she saw Harry and Ron sitting by the fire. They were boys and had not that much perception to tell that there was something different about her today, but she had an uneasy feeling as if she was betraying them somehow. If she felt like this only after one kiss, how would it be if there was anything more between her and Draco?

They saw her coming down the stairs and grinned their greetings.

"Did you sleep well?" asked Harry with amusement in his voice.

"I guess I was exhausted by all the studying I did last night." Hermione felt a warmth creeping up her neck at her lie. She took a vacant chair and looked at the fireplace. What else could she do than to hide it? Harry and Ron were not going to be happy if they ever saw her with their long-time enemy. Malfoy was certainly as awful as he had ever been in their minds. Harry would not understand why she was fraternising with the king of the Slytherin gits all of a sudden.

The boys were laughing.

"Is that even possible?" Ron made an exaggerated gasp. "Never thought a day would come when I hear you admitting you've studied too much!"

"Neither did I." She gave him a sheepish shrug. Trying to tell Ron would be even worse than telling Harry. All the foul words that Draco had ever spit at Ron were enough alone for Ron to hate him. But there was also the overly protective, petty side of Ron that could be an issue. There was probably going to be a lot of growling between Draco and Ron if this ever got out.

"So, aren't you practising Quidditch today?" It struck Hermione that it was odd that her friends were sitting in the common room on a nice day like this.

"The practise is after lunch today. And we wanted to make sure that you weren't sick or anything when we didn't see you at breakfast," Harry simply explained.

"Oh. Thanks." Hermione felt even worse for hiding things from them now. She opened her book and the boys dived in a discussion on Quidditch strategies which they apparently had been having before she had shown up.

Getting involved with Draco Malfoy would mean an excessive amount of trouble. Still a smile made its way onto her face when she was thinking of him. The way that he had caught her in his arms and how he had looked at her made her melt inside. She had never been looked at with anything like that look before.

Was he truly worth all the trouble? And did she have to decide it right now? She really liked planning and knowing everything there was to know in advance. Could she just let things unfold on their own for once? She twitched uncomfortably at that thought. She wasn't good at going with the flow. She wanted to steer the boat.

As the lunchtime was beginning they went to the Great Hall. For Hermione's disappointment she didn't see Draco there. Harry and Ron were concerned with the oncoming Quidditch game against Ravenclaw the next weekend and ate their lunch even faster than usual.

"We'll need to prepare for today's practise," said Ron while stuffing cake in his mouth and getting up from his seat.

"See you at dinner then," Hermione said, not even annoyed by his lack of manners anymore. She sat alone for a good while after they'd left. As the Slytherin brat didn't seem to have the decency to show up, she decided she could as well use the day to something constructive. Such as beginning her translation work of the Ancient Runes assignment which was due in two weeks. She had never been the type to hang around waiting for a boy and she certainly wasn't going to start now.

When she got to the entrance hall, Draco, surrounded by his usual group of Slytherins, emerged from the Dungeons stairs. His eyes were instantly on her and a smile lightened up his face shortly before he went behind his regular cold mask. She looked away as she noticed that all of the Slytherins' eyes were on her.

They went to the Great Hall and she stopped, leaning on the staircase. She wished she could have exchanged more than a short glance with Draco. Her mind was racing back and forth in a state of confusion. Was this how it would be? Did she want more? Did he want more?

A hand suddenly grabbed hers and Draco swirled her behind the side of the stairwell. He was looking at her intensely with a mix of passion and anxiety storming in his grey eyes. It was surprising how much his eyes were able to express, as he usually closely controlled his exterior. She realised that she had never seen him put his guard down in front of anyone else.

"Hey," he said quietly, his fingers fidgeting hers.

"Hi!" Hermione smiled carefully. His closeness and him holding her hand made objections in her mind loose importance and her questions disappear.

"I just wanted to make sure that you weren't regretting what happened yesterday." His words were more a question than anything else.

Before she could think what she was doing, her hand was caressing his face and she was leaning up towards him. She was hypnotised by his stare and couldn't tear her eyes from his.

"No," she whispered to his lips.

It was as if all his fears melted away as his eyes softened. His lips pressed gently on hers and her eyes fluttered shut. The kiss was sweet and full of emotions not yet given words to. It ended too soon when Draco drew back a bit. His eyes were still shut and he leaned his forehead on hers.

"I have to go before the others notice that I'm not right behind them. They already suspect something." He reluctantly let go of her hand and turned towards the Great Hall.

"See you later." She returned the dazzling smile that he sent her over his shoulder before vanishing through the door.

Hermione's body was yearning for more and her mind was excited to dive into this new adventure that was Draco Malfoy. Complicated and intriguing as he was. A feeling of happiness was spreading all over her and there was nothing she could do to rationalise it or to make it go away. She was fooling herself if she thought there would be going back from this. The only way from now on was forward and she wanted to find out if he was worth it all.

* * *

The afternoon had been very frustrating for Draco as he had tried to get away without any success. Blaise had insisted on going to see the Gryffindor Quidditch practise in order to make better strategies against their arch rivals. There was not much Draco could argue to that so he had agreed to it.

It had seemed like Blaise was trying to get some kind of point across, or to dig for information, as he had kept throwing in comments on how good a Chaser Ginny Weasley seemed, and how attractive she looked on that broom. And that not all Gryffindors might be entirely loathsome. Draco kept nodding at the supposed greatness of Weaslette. Blaise had another thing coming if he expected Draco to start spilling his secrets that easily.

After that, they stayed in the courtyard for a while with Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle before the dinner. His friends' chatting was mostly lost to Draco while his brain was working on options of how to flee from them later on.

Pansy hit him on the arm. "I'm glad you seem to be on a better mood this week than the last week."

Draco frowned. "Do I?" He couldn't handle the smug looks that Blaise and Pansy were exchanging. They had been doing that a lot around him lately.

"Yes, and we're all happy about that!" Blaise's laughter rumbled around the courtyard. "You were being an arse a lot worse than usual."

The warmhearted tone of the insult was contagious and Draco smirked. "I guess."

"Whatever it is, that's making you less grumpy, you'd better not loose it," Pansy said with a smile and then turned to casually inspect her nails.

"I agree. Whatever it is, mate." Blaise slapped Draco's shoulder as they went inside. Even Crabbe and Goyle nodded at that.

"Good to know," said Draco dryly. Maybe he should have been trusting these conniving bastards a bit more. Obviously they already had counted out everything.

None of them seemed to care that his eyes kept drifting to the Gryffindor table during the dinner. Nor did any of them make an attempt to follow him when he excused himself. He felt truly thankful at that.

Waiting for Hermione a few staircases up he soon saw her from the above. Unfortunately she was accompanied by Potter and Weaselbee. Draco took a piece of parchment from his bag and scribbled a hurried note on it, asking her to meet him by the library entrance in an hour, and signing it with 'D'. He waited until her friends' backs were turned to her before sending it flying over to her. A smile spread on her face as she read it. Her eyes went up, searching for him, but he drew back in the shadows of the corridor.

When the suggested time approached Draco sat down on a windowsill near the library door to wait for Hermione. As soon as he saw her rounding the corner he sprang to his feet and walked over to her. Unsure how to greet her he wrapped his arms around her. Her hair smelled nice and he lingered on her shoulder longer than intended, breathing in her scent. She pushed him away lightly and he took a step back. After all, they were standing in the middle of a corridor where anyone might walk in on them at any point.

They chose a direction of another, possibly less crowd-oriented, hallway.

"I see you managed to ditch Potty and Weaselbee."

Her eyes got an annoyed wrinkle. "Don't call them that."

"Sorry, old habit." He smiled apologetically. For her sake he would do his best to play it nice with her friends.

"What happened to your usual," she seemed to be looking for a word, "Slytherins?"

"Oh, they gave their blessings and wished me good luck."

A horrified look rose to her face. "You didn't tell them anything?"

"Of course not. The calculating schemers seem to have guessed it all by themselves."

She relaxed a bit. "And do you trust them?"

"No," he smirked. "They are Slytherins after all."

A group of Ravenclaws passed them by. One of them was raising his eyebrows at the rare sight of Malfoy and Granger having a peaceful conversation. Hermione seemed bothered.

"And you should know that!" Draco raised his voice taking a step away from her. "You insufferable know-it-all!"

"You evil, foul cockroach!" Hermione yelled back. He could see how she was trying to hold in her laughter.

"You – you," he couldn't bring himself to call her 'Mudblood', not even for distraction, "scum of the earth!"

The Ravenclaws were rolling their eyes like the world was on the right track again. As soon as they had rounded the corner, Hermione leaned on the wall trying to suppress a fit of giggles.

"That's the worst insult you can come up with?"

Draco shrugged. "Well, apparently I'm not as good at insulting people as the public opinion seems to make it."

Her laughter got softer. "I'm kind of happy about that."

"As long as those stupid things I said keep rumours from spreading." He felt an urge to grab her in his arms and to kiss her. Not really caring about who saw it.

"Oh, that just might have started some rumours instead."

"Possibly. I'll try to think of better insults for the next time." He grinned.

For a Gryffindor Hermione suddenly got a surprisingly smug expression on her features.

"Come," she gestured him to follow her to the corridor in the opposite direction.

Draco rushed after her. She peered around the corner to make sure the next corridor was empty before hurrying along.

"Where are we going?" he asked in a bewildered whisper.

Stopping in front of a small door, she opened it and pushed him into a dark space. Following right behind him she closed the door softly and locked it. As her wand illuminated the shelves around them he realised they were in a broom closet.

"Granger, I had no idea you wanted me this badly."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy."

"Make me."

Giving him a look that promised she would, she lighted a candle that was left on a shelf. He wasted no time in trapping her between himself and a wall and placing his face just inches away from hers. He loved how her eyes displayed a range of emotions from a tad of annoyance to lust, to a bit of alarm, to an exceptional warmth, all at once.

"I think I have always had a crush on you," he admitted hoping that it wouldn't make her draw away.

"I sort of figured it out," she said to his astonishment.

"Really? What gave it away?"

Smiling teasingly she traced her fingers along his jawline. "Well, it was more of a series of insights than one specific occurrence."

"No, really, I wonder."

"The first time you glared at me with hatred might have been a clue."

Draco chuckled. "And it still took you all these years to figure it out? I thought you were supposed to be the brains of Gryffindor."

There was a flash in her eyes. "And I thought you Slytherins were supposed to be smarter than to insult the girl in their arms."

"Good point. Although, you should know I never have been clever enough to keep myself from insulting anyone." He smirked at her in a self-assured way. "But I'm glad you managed to finally come to the right conclusion."

She shut him up by closing the gap between them and kissing him with all the eagerness that only all those lost years could have motivated. Draco's arms found their way around her, his fingers tangling in her hair and his body pressing against hers. He really was glad. Even more glad that he himself had finally understood his feelings for her. Even though it had taken some exceptional measures for him to start opening those doors. Not that he was going to tell her what had caused him to do it. He was smarter than that at least.

 **The end**

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _So, that's it. I hope you enjoyed reading this fiction! I had great fun writing it. The story was originally supposed to be half of the length of the completed fic, but it got a life of its own. An important thing I've learned: the next time I'll start publishing a multi-chapter fiction I'll make sure it's finished first..._

 _I truly appreciate all the reviews and feedback! Thank you all for reading!_


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